


my lover is the sunlight

by openended



Series: Bomb in a Birdcage [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Training, Watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-03-09 09:48:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3245168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/openended/pseuds/openended
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>for the prompt <i>forehead kisses</i> on tumblr</p>
            </blockquote>





	my lover is the sunlight

She’s not the first mage Josephine’s known, but she is the first mage to use her magic so casually, so publicly. A touch of a finger to the candle to light its wick, a wave of a hand to extinguish the torch, a snap of her fingers to warm the room. 

Ariadne Trevelyan is a mage of the Inferno School, and a powerful one, and wants you to know.

She displays exceptional control (though to hear Cullen tease her about eyebrows, this wasn’t always the case), making wisps of fire dance in the cold mountain air at night, forming loops and patterns, almost meditation as her mind travels where it needs. Her staff is never far from her side, but she only uses it as a weapon; her body is as magical as her staff, carved from years of training, and the additional power is usually unnecessary outside of battle.

(Cassandra had even reported that Ariadne chiefly uses her staff for melee combat in the field, rarely utilizing it as a conduit for the magic that flows freely from her fingertips. Josephine had smiled at that image - Ariadne’s red hair falling from its ponytail as she spins and twirls with her staff, throwing fiery spells in tandem with Vivienne’s ice - and then quickly tamped down her smile. Cassandra had left, smirking.

But that was months ago, before the fall of Haven. 

Before... _them_.

Josephine smiles freely, now.)

Ariadne's in the training yard, dueling with Iron Bull. Stripped down to her breastband and leggings, a thin sheen of sweat glistens across her skin in the sunlight as she spins out of the way of Bull’s attack and cracks her staff down on his shoulders.

He takes advantage of her distracted victory and charges, knocking her off her feet to land unglamorously on her rear. He stands above her, practice sword raised.

Josephine gasps from her vantage point on the ramparts, but Ariadne raises her left hand, palm open toward Bull. A pulse of heat ripples through the air, sending Bull flying backward. Ariadne struggles to her feet, leaning heavily on her staff, but smirks as Bull stands.

“Shit, Scorch,” he says. The grass between them smokes, but doesn’t catch flame. 

She laughs and shakes his hand in a match well fought. “Next time don’t embarrass me in front of my girlfriend,” she nods upward.

Josephine flushes, caught in the act, and slips back inside.

Bull snorts with a grin. “Next time don’t let your guard down.” He takes in the slight shake of her legs and just how much she’s leaning on her staff. “Want some help getting up there?”

Ariadne shakes her head. “No, but thank you.”

“Any time, Boss.”

She takes her time with the stairs, using the railing and her staff as she needs them. She’s always less coordinated after a workout like that, having spent all her energy and focus on the movements and rhythm of the fight, and it wouldn’t do to walk into Josephine’s office even more bruised or scraped.

With a slight curl of her fingers, she makes the candle on Josephine’s desk burn brighter, announcing her presence. She smiles and does the best saunter she can manage as she crosses the room. She catches the corner of the desk with her hand, steadying herself before she leans her full weight against the edge and bends to kiss Josephine’s forehead. “Did you enjoy the show?” 

“I am glad you wear armor in battle,” Josephine says. “But,” she lets her gaze travel the length of Ariadne’s body, following the slope of her muscles and the flat plane of her torso, “glad that you forgo it in practice.”

 


End file.
